


Excalibur came later

by boredkitty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Merlin AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredkitty/pseuds/boredkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles came to Camelot to try to have a peaceful and safe life, like his father wanted him to. Too bad there's magic, a dragon and a prince making his life impossible. Especially the prince, he hates the prince. </p><p>Merlin AU in which Stiles is Merlin, Derek is Arthur and everyone else is sorted out accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few things I want to say: 
> 
> This is my first Teen Wolf fic, and my first fic in a while, I'm sort of terrified to post it, but I've been having ridiculous amounts of fun writing it so I wanted to share the fun. 
> 
> English is not my first language and I'm saying this because besides silly mistakes I may make, I'm sort of MURDERING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE in this one, with this I mean that my grasp in any sort of particular way to speak the language is nonexistent, this is mostly a silly story and I researched as much as I could in the little time I have to write this (yay thesis), but my research focused more on.. well... things that existed at the time, not the language because that would be another headache and as I said before, this is a piece done for fun. Basically; historical accuracy? what is that. 
> 
> If you want me to correct any mistake, please tell me, I don't have a beta at the moment so any help is appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The excitement of arriving to a new place lasted around 15 minutes.

Camelot was enormous, full of sound and life and activity that his village could never even attempt to produce in festive days. It was wonderful and terrifying and Stiles fell in love with the place.

That is, until he met the knights.

He was aware, as every peasant was, that knights, no matter the kingdom, felt the holy right to behave like a bunch of jerks, he knew that his village was luckily too small and too close to the frontier to grant the attention of Deucalion’s knights but he heard stories of pillage and abuse, maybe a bit worse than what the men in front of them were doing, but still, it was the principle of the whole business; they were mocking a young boy who looked pale and too frightened to do anything but take everything coming his way, in this case the arrows of a knight with the ugliest sneer, the poor kid could only cower behind a big wooden target earning even more mocking from the other men.

“Maybe this will teach you to do your work on time!” said the knight with the sneer aiming at the poor boy again.

“Hey! Stop it!”

Stiles wondered who said that.

Oh right, he did.

The knights turned to look at him, the… leader? He didn’t have anything to distinguish him from the others. They all had the same armor, the same red cloak, the same ugly expressions directed at him.

“And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

Stiles winked “No one!” he said quickly, feeling the panic settling in his stomach “I just… aren’t knights supposed to protect us commoners? What’s the point of tormenting someone who’s just a kid? There’s no need to be a prat.” The knight narrowed his eyes and warning bells started to sound in Stiles’ head.

He was going to die.

“So now a _commoner”_ said the knight almost spitting the words in distaste “Believes he is worthy of teaching us lessons” the other men laughed an ugly laugh that made Stiles’ insides contract in terror “maybe we should let him teach us, shouldn’t we?” some of the knights nodded looking at Stiles like a bug they wanted to squish while others simply shook his head in amusement.

Apparently there was no way out of this.

“Look” said Stiles while trying to look for a way to escape, he didn’t even worry about the boy, he was sure the kid was already forgotten by the knights “I don’t want to cause trouble, maybe we can forget this whole thing happened?”

That earned a few laughs and sneers, the knight who was apparently instigating the whole thing smirked “Sure, we can forget this” he said almost benevolently “if you lick my boots.”

Stiles blinked, and replied without thinking (he did that, he could almost see his dad sighing in exasperation among the bystanders)

“How about you kiss my arse.”

The silence was deafening after that, it lasted no more than a few seconds but Stiles felt it dragged forever, the knight reacted by making a sound that was some sort of hiss mixed with a growl and attacking Stiles with his sword.

Stiles reacted by running as fast as he could. People moved from his way but no one actually helped him, he didn’t feel offended, if he was them he wouldn’t help himself either, he could hear the knight approaching, the armor slowing him down a little and Stiles used that advantage to run towards the most difficult places to navigate, dodging shopping carts and old people alike, he could listen to the knight groaning in effort and anger, trying not to crash against anything, it felt like a victory.

That was until he was the one to crash against what felt like a wall he was sure wasn’t there before.

“What is the meaning of this?” said the wall clearly annoyed. “Jackson?”

The horrible, horrible knight stopped and looked at the wall (maybe it was a person, Stiles didn’t dare to look towards it-him), his eyes were huge and he looked… scared? He bowed his head in apparent respect “My liege! I was just-”

“By the looks of it” interrupted the wall/man “you were disgracing the name of the knights of Camelot, I’m sure the king will be most displeased with your behavior.”

The kni-Jackson looked panicked “There’s no need for that! This peasant was ridiculing me and the other knights! He had to learn a lesson.”

 _Oh_ _no_ “You were ridiculing yourself! You were tormenting a poor kid, you were just a bunch of abusers, I didn’t see knights! You don’t deserve my respect or anyone’s for that matter”

“Enough!” Stiles flinched forgetting that a man who was apparently of high rank was standing in front of him, he finally dared to look at him, they were almost the same height but the man was muscular with features that he could only describe as wild, he looked like the impersonation of strength, his grey (grey?) eyes were focused on Stiles, frowning in clear annoyance “you can’t talk like this to the knights of the king of Camelot, much less in my presence, boy.”

Stiles winked “Er… why?”

The man’s scowl got more pronounced “You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” Someday his mouth was going to get him killed, by the looks he was getting someday was most likely to become now.

Fortunately for him the sound of what appeared to be some sort of horn alerted both Jackson the horrible, horrible knight and the wall/man who was apparently kind of a jerk too, without sparing him a glance both ran towards the walls, leaving Stiles to regain his breath and try not to vomit in front of the castle.

Apparently he got to the castle while running away too, what a useful brush with death he had. Ignoring the curious looks he was getting, he walked towards the entrance, to find Deaton, maybe he would have something to sew his mouth shut.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

 

Because this was Stiles’ life and he was incapable of keeping himself out of trouble, he managed to do the first thing his dad told him not to do, make him _promise_ not to do.

In his defense, Deaton almost died, that was a high shelf he fell from, so you could argue it was out of urgency and Stiles was a hero, a magical hero.

“Could you put me down please? I believe we need to discuss this.”

And even if the idea of leaving Deaton floating to attempt escaping crossed Stiles’ mind he let the physician down because his father raised him to be better than that.

Also because Deaton wasn’t screeching for the knights to come so maybe he was as understanding as his father hinted he was. He also looked like a nice man, Stiles was hopeful.

“I must thank you for saving my life” he said with a very soft and relaxing voice, now that he wasn’t suspended on the air “and I honestly don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I have to ask you-“

“Oh yes!” interrupted Stiles “I’m-I’m sorry! my father he-he said you would- I have a letter!” Stiles took out the piece of paper from him his pocket and handed it to Deaton with barely any trembling, he noticed with some pride.

While Deaton read the letter Stiles looked around curiously, the small room was full of books, vials, pots, and… well, things, it was slightly overwhelming for him, who was used to no more than his pallet back at his father’s house. A space with so many things, with so much life, was, well, incredible.

“What do you think about Camelot, boy?” Deaton’s smile was kind and understanding. Stiles dared to hope.

“It’s magical.” Deaton laughed and Stiles knew it was going to be all right.

 

Well, that was until he told Deaton about the knights.

“I think we need to establish a few rules,” Said Deaton with an exasperated frown that reminded Stiles of his father “I wanted to believe that it was not necessary to tell you that magic is absolutely prohibited, but now I’m not so sure, so I must remind you that magic is punished with death here in Camelot.” Stiles nodded “You need to be very careful, Stiles, for what I read from the letter and from what I experienced you are considerably powerful but inexperienced.” he nodded again, he didn’t know if he was powerful, but the lack of experience was painfully obvious “I think I can help you a little, but you must promise to be careful, and try not to antagonize with the knights, much less in presence of the prince.”

“What? I-I didn’t- b-b-but- the prince? Really? That arrogant man?”

“Indeed, try not to insult too much prince Derek; that could get you in the same place as the magic. Now tell me, how well can you read?”

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

_My dear friend,_

_I assume this will come as a shock to you, given that this letter will come attached to my son, and I assume he would have already shown you his secret, do try to be patient, The Gods know he doesn’t do it on purpose._

_It is with pain in my heart that I send Stiles to you, here in Ealdor I can’t take care of him, I can’t give him what he needs and it was only a matter of time until someone noticed, as you know this is a very small village and a secret only lasts as long as the silence of its loudest inhabitant._

_I am worried, Deaton, I thought about this over countless nights, if it was a good idea to send my son to the place where his mere existence is what could destroy him, but I trust no one other than you with Stiles, with his secret and with his life, I trust Camelot will be a good place for Stiles and that you will teach him not to be a complete disaster, he’s a smart boy, believe it or not._

_I can’t promise you he won’t give you a hard time, he does that without even trying, and I’m not even talking about his… talents, I’m sure he’ll remind you of his mother._

_Please don’t let him fool you, my friend, he’s been hurt countless times, I think I’m partly responsible for that too, I can’t be the parent he needs, the only thing I can give him is the chance to be the person I know he can be, to take him as far away as possible from king Deucalion’s influence, but even if I know that this is the best decision, I am also aware that I’m hurting him, so please, try to have some patience with him, he would never admit it, but happiness does not come easy to him, he likes helping and bringing happiness to the people he cares about, but he doesn’t give that much thought to himself, I know you’ll learn to care about him, please help him to be happy, there’s nothing else I wish but for his happiness._

_I hope this letter and my son find you well and I thank you from the bottom of my heart, as a parent I must ask you to take good care of Stiles reminding you that I still know how to wield a sword with fair expertise._

_Please remind Stiles to write to me, I hope to receive news from you two soon._

_Your friend,_

_Robert._

 


	2. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth is that this was drafted a bit before 3B premiered so I didn't know Kira and didn't know how much would I fall for her, I'm thinking of writing her into the story but we'll see. 
> 
> I'm going to try to update this once a week, I don't know if I'll be punctual because I have other things to write (again: yay thesis) and I'm prone to getting sick, I only can promise to do my best. 
> 
> On to the chapter!

He met Allison on his second day at Camelot and she was the best thing that could happen to him, apparently she witnessed the whole incident with the prince Derek and his horrible, horrible knights and decided that Stiles was a good person, stupid, but good.

They became friends in record time.

Allison did her best to help Stiles while he managed to get used to the castle and the city, so whenever she wasn't serving lady Lydia she would tag along guiding him to the places he was to go by Deaton's request, she also introduced him to the friendly people of Camelot who were more than willing to assist Stiles, they knew him as the dumb boy who stood up to lord Jackson and his bullies, and even if he could go without being called dumb, he was more than OK with having as much help as he could; the place was overwhelming.

He met lady Lydia a week after moving to Camelot when Deaton asked him to take to her rooms some sort of potion for the headaches that were apparently tormenting her since king Peter took her under his wing, he was supposed to leave the small bottle on one the tables at the entrance with strict orders to not talk to the lady, but this was Stiles; nothing went his way.

"So you are the boy Allison has been talking about." later Stiles would swear that he didn't as much yelp as emit a manly sound of surprise. At the moment he was busier trying to not break the bottle that went flying from his hand. Lady Lydia caught it without much effort, giving Stiles reason to look at her.

She was beautiful, perfect, and Stiles fell a little in love with the way she was looking at him like he was as interesting as a dust bunny.

"Er... I'm not supposed to talk to you... m'lady."

Lady Lydia smirked and Stiles could have swooned "No you're not, but from what I've heard you do many things you're not supposed to do." he gulped a little expecting maybe some sort of scolding from the prince's... sister? Fiancé? He still wasn't sure what was the deal with those two.  "Oh don't worry, I honestly can't care any less if you make Derek dear cry. Is this for me?"  Stiles nodded.

"For your headaches, m'lady." lady Lydia frowned as if the bottle had personally offended her, and turned around apparently forgetting completely about Stiles.

"Say Deaton I'm thankful" said suddenly the lady making Stiles jump again "ask him to meet me as soon as he can, I have some... business I wish to discuss with him."

Stiles bowed and left the room trying not to feel sorry for lady Lydia who apparently was the envy of everyone in the kingdom but looked at that exact moment like the most miserable person in all of Camelot.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

Deaton made Stiles go with him to the banquet the king was celebrating that night in honor to this famous artist who was visiting the realm, he didn't knew much about her; peasants didn't have the time to know much about… well, anything that wasn’t work, his whole knowledge about her came from visiting her rooms that afternoon to leave some sort of salve for her voice. She looked (and felt) scary and Stiles left as soon as he could.

That night, at the banquet, as Stiles stood in a corner just as Deaton instructed him, waiting to be of assistance, he looked with curiosity at the people in the room. the maids and servants were moving around, making sure to keep the cups full and close enough to attend to any demand of their masters and the other guests, Allison, standing close to the lady Lydia smiled at Stiles when their eyes met, he smiled back at her. lady Lydia looked gorgeous in green, smiling and talking to the king at his side, who looked imposing, and scary sitting on his throne smiling at everyone, and speaking occasionally to the lady and his nephew, who looked like he would pretty much rather be in any other place.

After the incident with prince Derek and the knights (who weren't around, fortunately), Stiles made sure to avoid the prince, not a difficult task since the kitchens and the market weren't places for royalty and there hasn't been any reason for Stiles to run errands close to where the prince spent his time. Looking at the prince again he remembered why he was so fundamentally intimidated that first day at Camelot; the man looked like some sort of untamed beast more than like a prince, he looked violent and angry, he was a prince of course, his body language screamed royalty, but also aggression and rage. Stiles disliked him immediately.

Apparently he spent too long staring at the prince because suddenly he found a pair of grey eyes (and seriously, grey?) looking directly at him with annoyance, and then narrowing and then... well apparently Stiles wasn't as forgettable as he liked to believe because that was clearly recognition, he gulped when the prince very pointedly stabbed an apple and started to eat it with unnecessary violence. He was sure he was going to witness more acts of unnecessary fruit carnage when the king decided to stand up.

"My friends," he said "I discussed with our lovely guest earlier today, what would it take to have her beautiful voice as entertainment tonight, and while I can't tell you what price I had to pay" some people laughed "I am very proud to have the lovely lady Camille delighting us with her voice." Excited claps and whispers started all around when the lady stood up.

Stiles winked, and winked again, that didn't look like the woman he saw in the rooms earlier, this one looked beautiful, young, sweet and likable, the other looked like a warped version of this one, with cold eyes, a hateful expression making her look older and uglier, maybe it was his imagination but Stiles couldn't help the uneasiness he was feeling.

_Cover your ears._

"Huh?" he turned around but no one was looking at him, much less talking to him, they were absolutely enthralled with the lady Camille who was apparently thanking the king for his hospitality, Stiles frowned, she looked normal but her eyes moved too much in the direction of the prince and there was something...

_Cover your ears, boy._

And Stiles did, just before the first note came out of the woman's voice he put his hands on his ears. Even if he was terrible at taking orders he had at least decent instincts.

He saw how everyone started to fall, the king, the prince, lady Lydia, Allison, Deaton, the servants, the guests, even the animals who were wandering around fell under the spell of lady Camille's voice, Stiles fell with the others, trying not to gain attention until he figured out what to do, at first he panicked, thinking them all dead, the soft snore of the maiden next to him proved him wrong.

"I know you're awake, little one" the voice of the woman changed, it sounded older, crueler, Stiles didn't dare to move "Come, get up, I don't mean to hurt you." Without any other choice he got up slowly and looked at the woman, who was now old, wrinkled with most of the teeth missing from the horrible smile she was sending Stiles’ way. “I really don’t mean to hurt anyone, never did.”

“So why now?” asked Stiles getting his courage from who knows where while moving closer to the witch.

The woman’s face got hard, twisted and uglier from the hate she was emanating “the king,” she said almost spitting the word in distaste “he destroyed my boy, he burned him alive in front of everyone as if he was some sort of entertainment, he never hurt anyone, and he was taken from me.”

“And what do you plan to do? Kill the king?” the woman smiled again

“Oh no, my boy, I want the king to feel the pain I feel, to suffer and to break, I want him to wake up and see his only family destroyed.” Stiles saw the knife in the woman’s hand and the way she was looking at the prince, as if he was prey. Somehow Stiles knew that it was a terrible idea to let her go through that plan.

“But you’ll only make them hate magic more” he tried to reason “revenge only leads to more hate and blood, don’t you see this is a terrible idea?”

The woman smiled, and it was a horrible and insane smile, Stiles knew it was a lost cause.

_Stop her! Protect the prince._

And Stiles did, later he wouldn’t be able to explain why but at the moment his resolve to not let anything harm the prince was greater than anything, he just knew he couldn’t let the prince die. The witch went flying across the room like a rag doll would, crashing against the wall with a horrible sound that made Stiles flinch. She stayed there on the ground, unmoving, Stiles wasn’t optimistic enough to think she was dead.

Nonetheless, the spell was broken, people started to stir and then wake up, Stiles found himself closer to the throne than he was before, pretending to wake up and going immediately to the aid of Allison he didn’t take his eyes off the unmoving witch. King Peter was livid, demanding explanations that no one could give him, Stiles was too focused on lady Camille’s body to even pay attention to the king, the woman was starting to move, and Stiles, without giving it much thought, ran towards the prince.

The knife went flying with unnatural force at the same time that a sword pierced her heart, everyone was too shocked to focus on the accusations of treason that the woman made before dying in the hands of one of the knights, acussations not to the king but to Stiles, who was busy pushing prince Derek out of the way, both fell to the floor while the knife got stuck in the chair, exactly where the prince’s chest was not a second before.

As soon as he could breathe, Stiles moved away from the prince who was still too shaken to react, another knight helped him get up, king Peter was checking on him in no time. Both were talking quickly and too quietly for Stiles to listen, and even if he could he was too tired and nervous to even attempt to listen, Deaton was sending him worried looks. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and sleep for days. He suspected it would take him some time to manage to go to rest, though, with the way he was being stared at, even by the king.

Oh no.

“You saved my nephew, boy” Deaton made crazy eyes and gestures at him that Stiles interpreted as ‘keep quiet and bow your head or so help me I’ll make you suffer in creative and subtle ways for months to come’ so he did just that “what is your name?”

“Uh… S-Stiles, your majesty.”

“So Stiles, you live with Deaton, yes?” Stiles was about to reply when the king kept talking because apparently he was in love with his own voice “Excellent! You shall be rewarded for saving the life of the heir; you will now work as his personal servant.” Stiles blinked, and he swore he could feel the prince next to him blink in astonishment before protesting loudly, Stiles wished he could do the same. Instead he bowed and mumbled how honored he was, which gained him a glare from prince Derek, he expected those looks to get directed at him often from now on.

When the prince noticed that it was a lost battle against his uncle (the man didn’t listen at all, it was almost funny), he looked at Stiles with disdain “I’ll expect you in my chambers early with breakfast, don’t be late.”

“Yes…uh… sire”

He wanted to say he didn't run away, but he ran away, good thing he suddenly became practically invisible, no one was paying him attention when he left.

Stiles couldn't wait to tell his dad. 

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

_Stiles,_

_I can’t deny this turn of events, that could otherwise be extremely fortunate, worries me to no end; I know Deaton will guide you as best as he can but you are the one who has to be careful, I know you, Stiles, please try not to antagonize too much the prince, I won’t ask you to not do it at all because that would be impossible, just don’t put yourself at risk for reasons you can avoid, I trust you’ll listen this time._

_I miss you, my son, Ealdor seems too quiet now that you’re gone, but I’m glad to know that you’ve made friends, I hope you’re happy Stiles, it is all I want from you. I am proud of you, never doubt that I am._

_Do not worry about me, everything is the same in here, take care and I will do the same on my side._

_Scott sends his love, I’m trying to teach him how to write, so expect a letter soon._

_With love and pride,_

_Your father._


	3. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been asked about longer chapters; it may happen in the future, these are a bit introductory so they aren't really plot-heavy, we'll see what happens later. 
> 
> Also, I haven't watched Merlin in a very long time, so as you'll see in this chapter, I'm pretty much sending canon to hell and I'm just using some plot elements to adapt. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek was an absolute nightmare, he was making it clear that he did not want Stiles serving him or even breathing his air, the problem was that he was making it clear to Stiles himself, in the most annoying ways. It was unfair; it wasn't as if he had any say in the matter.

It started because he was only slightly late that morning.

"I believe I told you I expected you first time."

"You actually said 'early', nothing very specific actually." Derek's eyes narrowed and Stiles felt his life shortening by a few decades "uh... sire."

"You cannot talk to me like that." Said the prince in a horribly cold tone, narrowing his eyes even more “I am your prince and you are but a mere servant.”

Stiles shrugged "It's not like I wanted the honor." was that a pulsing vein on Derek's forehead? "But you know; king’s orders... I mean, reward, I can't say anything about it, it's such an honor and I am but a mere peasant."

"Gods you're annoying leave my breakfast and prepare my clothes. In silence."

Stiles tried to be good and do what was ordered and expected of him and succeeded for a few minutes, but Derek was nightmare and Stiles was... well, also a nightmare, he could admit as much. Derek sneered and disapproved of everything he tried to do: the food? Too late, the clothes? Too wrinkled, the armor? Not shiny at all, the sword? Not the right one.

"Can't you do anything right?"

"Well apparently not, sire, maybe you should do it yourself."

 

The rest of the day was spent shoveling horse shit while being mocked by the knights (by express orders of the princess, apparently), Stiles apparently needed to understand that he could (and should) have been executed for the way he spoke in front of the prince, but said prince was patient (ha!) enough to give Stiles some unpleasant tasks so he could learn from his mistakes and understand that he should become of soft disposition like the other servants at the castle.

The real reason was that Derek enjoyed humiliating Stiles and there was nothing that could be said to convince him otherwise.

“First hour tomorrow, kid.” Said the prince that night when Stiles just left the stables and started his walk towards the castle “Oh, and take the horses to the stables, we just came back from hunting and they need some fresh food and water.” The smirk in Derek’s face was enormous. Stiles just bowed and took the reins of the three horses the prince handed to him, he was hoping that at least one stable boy was still awake enough to help him. “I gave orders that you should be the one to take care of these ones” added the prince as smug as a snake “so don’t even think of asking for assistance.”

Stiles thought, while the prince walked away, that he would rather spend a year shoveling horse shit, than a day in the presence of such a displeasing man.

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

The thing about magic, Stiles learned that quite early in his life, is that it is annoying and unreasonable, it happens when it wants to happen and no one can do much about it. Specially, when there are immensely powerful magical creatures in control of the situation.

Much later than he would have liked; an angry, exhausted and stinking Stiles grumbled a quick good night to a frowning Deaton and promptly fell asleep even before his body hit the bed.

_Boy…_

It was the same voice he heard the day of lady Camille’s incident, with all the insanity in his life he forgot all about it, the voice sounded old and powerful, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, the pull it was exerting on him was almost unbearable.

He found that the way towards the dungeons was easy enough to navigate in the middle of the night, the place was almost deserted and surprisingly he could be inconspicuous when he needed to; the few guards that crossed his path didn’t even notice the boy hiding (badly) in the shadows.

_Quickly, boy._

The dungeon lead some stairs carved on the same stone the castle was made of, at the end of them was a cave, Stiles walked blindly in the dark hoping not to trip and break his head on the hard floor, next time he would bring a torch. The idea made him stop. Next time? If he survived, he shall never commit such a stupid act again. Maybe.

_Hurry!_

He kept walking, as if pushed towards the small light he could see at the other end of the cave, it was a cliff, surrounded by rock on every side except up, moonlight illuminating the place, Stiles couldn’t see any living creature around him, but there were many places where… _something_ could hide.

Well, except for the gigantic dragon that was flying his way.

The creature stopped just in front of Stiles, landing gracefully on a rock just in front of the cliff he was standing on, the creature’s wings folded on its body, it looked like a statute.

And then it spoke.

“What is your name, boy?”

Stiles wasn’t screaming only because he was too terrified to emit any sound, he heard of dragons, they were terrible creatures of death and destruction, he also heard of king Peter destroying all of them in his crusade against magic.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“Stiles! Er… uh… I-I am Stiles.” The dragon looked at Stiles for a long moment, not even blinking, he was feeling uncomfortable and couldn’t help but wonder when he would get eaten.

“Stiles…” finally said the creature as if testing how the words sounded, it looked distracted, and Stiles thought to run away, but-

“You’re shackled.” the dragon inclined his head while lifting his left leg, the chain looked heavy and even surrounding the massive extremity it looked big and terrifying, something in Stiles shivered in fear and it was, shockingly, not for the creature.

“Killing all of the dragons would have a terrible cost for the king of Camelot, young warlock, he was… cleverly advised in the matter, and as you see, managed to trap me.” Stiles saw an expression in the dragon that came close to a human grimace and he couldn’t help but forget how scared he was.

“But can’t you escape?”

“If can or if I can’t escape is of no matter to you” replied the dragon and Stiles felt like groaning, another cryptic old… someone he had to deal with, fantastic. “Now tell me, how is the prince?”

Stiles grimaced “even if he is a completely horrid person I won’t kill him, not because I don’t want to every other day, but-” the dragon snorted in amusement.

“Oh I’m not asking you to kill the prince, young warlock, quite the opposite, actually.” And that was _definitively_ a smirk “You see, his young majesty- and you by his side- have a big destiny, much bigger than you can imagine, and that can only happen if you make sure the prince stays safe, just as you did a few days ago.”

“You insisted, if I recall.”

“I just pushed a little, only to make sure everything started moving, but you, boy, are the only one who can make sure the prince lives enough to reach his potential.”

“Potential?”

“As the true king of Albion.”

Stiles eloquently fell on his ass.

“T-That’s nonsense!” he spluttered “he’s a complete imbecile and I’m-”

“You!” roared the dragon stopping Stiles’ outburst even before it started “can object all you want and it won’t matter; your destiny is with the prince and his is with you, you will protect him, young warlock, I am only the messenger, do as you will with what I’ve told you.”

And before the dragon went flying who knows where in the cave, the chain long enough to mock the creature with a false sense of liberty, Stiles could only think that the creature barely told him anything of use, and only managed to upset him. He was unwilling to believe that he could be something more than the Stiles he was now, a peasant, a servant boy, his apprenticeship with Deaton was more than he could ever hope for, his... association with Derek one of many curses that came his way because of his magic.

It was just too much.

And Albion? It was just a dream, a story that people told to children so at least they could have something akin to hope before growing, nothing could unify the kingdoms, men with power were ambitious and rotten, they didn’t care about peace because peace wasn’t of benefit to them, Stiles couldn’t think that the Derek he had to deal with every day was any different. It had to be a mistake.

Exhausted in more than one way, Stiles went back to Deaton’s chambers; he had to wake up early the next day to get everything ready for the prince as a servant should.

And that was what he was; a servant, no more.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

_Father,_

_It warms my heart to know that you are fine and taking care of yourself, you ask me not to worry when you know that worrying is what keeps me breathing, I am nothing but your son in that aspect._

_I am behaving as best as I can, take that as you may, the work gets done, either way. Deaton is being as patient as he can with me, I know I can be exhausting but as far as I’ve seen he grew fond of me already, it’s good to have company in such a big place, even if I’m getting used to it._

_Everything is fine here, father, even if I miss you every day I can’t deny that it feels right to be in Camelot, it’s not an easy place and sometimes it may be overwhelming but you were right by sending me here, do not doubt yourself, there is not a better father in any kingdom for someone like me._

_I hope Scott is not being difficult to you, he can be a little… intense when he develops an interest in something, but he’s quite clever, I expect letters from him in the future, tell him I miss him too, new friends, as wonderful as they are, can never replace the old ones._

_~~I’ll end this letter here, the prince is requesting something and I will most likely be yelled at for not being able to guess what it was.~~ _

_Ignore that last paragraph._

_With love,_

_Stiles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't re-read this chapter as much as I usually do, so if you catch any horrible mistake please let me know and I'll fix it immediately. Thank you and sorry!


	4. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, these past weeks have been terrible, I'm sorry for getting erratic in posting so soon into the story.
> 
> Please enjoy, and I'm so sorry for the dreadful (and intentional) grammar of the last bit, it was a blast to write, tho.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm not sure but I must warn about a bit of violence? it's explained at the end note, just in case.

Nothing important happened in the following weeks after his encounter with the dragon, Deaton, after Stiles told him all about it, gave him a long talk about carefulness, dragon and sneaking out.

The lack of reaction over the whole destiny thing was strange, but Deaton was a strange man.

Stiles adapted quickly, he didn't get lost as much and could run errands without wasting time via suddenly finding himself at the other side of the castle (or a few memorable times at the outskirts of the citadel, Allison was terrible at maps), he also made a few more friends with some stable boys, maids and cooks and got used to finding himself in the middle of intense gossip conferences every once in a while.

When Deaton handed him a book of spells Stiles thought that maybe the destiny thing actually did lead to a reaction.

“You need more control” he said while Stiles looked through the pages with a look of wonder, he knew Deaton practiced magic in the old times, but he thought that he gave it up completely to avoid the king’s rage (the fact that he wasn't a victim of the purge and could still work for the king was a mystery the man didn't want to discuss, ever) “the book will help you find ways to canalize your power, but you mustn't use the spells in a selfish way, Stiles, it may be tempting but you must do your best to keep safe.”

Stiles nodded without looking at Deaton, already submerged in the content of the pages “did you know there’s a spell to clean floors?”

Deaton sighed.

“Just be careful.”

 

Stiles was actually pretty careful, the following days were calm and boring, he used any free time he had to study any spell that he might find helpful in the security of his rooms, and only there, he was a quick study, and soon the strange language of the spells came out naturally from his mouth. He learned to make a nice fire, heat water, sharpen objects and a huge variety of household spells that made him wonder just how lazy druids, witches and warlocks actually were. Although with Derek’s ridiculous demands he found them incredibly useful quite quickly. He wasn't trying to, but he was just a man and the prince was a complete bastard.

The days passed, quicker when Derek wasn't around, and even he got used to the tasks, he still was terrible at waking up early (as the prince liked to tell him every morning at breakfast) but he was getting used to behaving… a little. He could admit his relationship with Derek was slightly strained, but he tried his best and the prince apparently thought that Stiles had some sort of mental ailment, Deaton never denied anything.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

It was almost a month after he came into the service of the prince when Stiles witnessed his first execution.

He was sewing a pair of Derek’s breaches (and who knew sewing actually fitted him, it made him less jittery), when he heard steps and hurried chatter just outside of Deaton’s rooms, the physician was at the moment tending to some noble or another who couldn't be arsed to be checked in other place that wasn't their rooms. Curious, he decided to peek and then -his curiosity as always getting the best of him- to follow.

Everyone was heading to the citadel’s square, some sharing excited whispers others nervously silent, among those Stiles found Allison who grimaced and waved weakly at him, while walking the opposite direction of the crowd, he ended up walking alongside his friend, if anything, she was safer than whatever was happening, he thought.

“I really don’t like these” started Allison suddenly “I understand its bad what they've done but-“

“What” interrupted Stiles “I can’t quite follow; what is going on? What is bad?”

Allison frowned remembering how new was his friend in all the happenings of Camelot and sighed sadly “It’s an execution; they’re burning a girl today for being a sorcerer.”

 

Stiles walked with Allison in silence while she told him about how much she disliked watching the executions even if it was some sort of show of loyalty to Peter being there, so she would always head to lady Lydia’s rooms to accompany her, since the king will actually expect the lady to have some sort of commentary about his “victories” even if she refused to join him in one of the balconies. On the way up in the tower where the lady’s rooms were Stiles saw a small window, more like an opening in one of the stone walls; the view was perfect from there.

He could see the crowd and the way they moved like excited chickens, he could see the king standing proud and the prince next to him, he couldn't see their expressions.

In the middle of the square was a pyre made of wood and hay, on the right side some knights held a despairing old woman who was trying to claw her way to the person in the middle of the pyre, in the pyre was a girl, not older than ten and five, she wasn't moving, and Stiles, more than see, could feel the resignation that couldn't mask completely the utter horror she was feeling.

“She’s just a child.” He muttered.

Allison gave him a small pat on the shoulder that Stiles didn't seem to feel, she left towards Lydia’s rooms when she understood that his friend wouldn't move, couldn't move.

He saw until what was left of the girl could barely be recognizable as human and the crowd cheered. The old woman lay motionless in the arms of a knight. Stiles dried his eyes with his sleeve and for the first time in his life he felt something that he couldn't help but interpret as hatred.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

Stiles wanted to talk to Deaton before having to deal with his duties as Derek’s manservant, he wanted to ask why would anyone feel anything but revulsion after witnessing the brutal murder of a child, how could anyone keep gossiping and laughing and going on as if nothing happened, he wanted to demand and scream and most of all he wanted to be comforted even if he would never admit it.

Deaton was still busy when he had to go fetch the prince’s dinner at the kitchens, for the first time since his arrival at Camelot, Stiles didn’t got sidetracked by some gossip or joking happening on his way, it was so strange to him, all these people behaving as if nothing had happened just a few hours before, it scared him to think that if it was himself in there, burning, life in the citadel would be the same, that thought and the memory of a small figure writhing in the middle of a gigantic fire kept him quiet.

He retrieved the food in silence and arrived to Derek’s rooms without trouble, he was received by a frowning prince (nothing new there) clearly with something negative to say about Stiles already (not new either).

“How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

 Stiles only bowed and started to set the various dishes on Derek’s table, he knew he would usually say something inappropriate and would get a shoe, a cup, or in a memorable occasion a coat of armor, thrown at him while he scurried out the room wondering every time how wasn't he already thrown to a dungeon for annoying the prince. This time it was different, he was different, he felt wary, he didn't want to listen to Derek agreeing to the king’s brutality, didn't  want to question the whole destiny thing more than he did already.

Derek’s sigh surprised Stiles a little, it sounded resigned and tired, he couldn't help but turn around and look at the prince; who was looking at Stiles with a pensive and almost pained expression.

“I didn't agree to that, you know.”

“Sire?”

Derek grimaced “The burning, the girl, Lydia and I tried to convince my uncle otherwise.” Stiles could feel his heart skip a beat; he was so sure that the prince was just like the king, hateful and violent, but now-

“Why?”

“She was but a kid,” Replied Derek immediately, his voice angry and low “a kid could never be an enemy of Camelot, she just- she just was…”

And Stiles understood; Derek was hurting, they were both hurting because deep down, they felt they could have done something to save her, but didn't, couldn't.

They kept quiet while Stiles resumed his word of setting the table and Derek resumed his brooding, for the first time it was the prince the one to break the silence.

“I can’t help but assume this was the first time you got to see an execution.”

Stiles shook his head while serving a cup of ale for Derek, the prince seemed tired and sad, and even if that made him slightly more amicable, it was a weird look on him “For the crime of sorcery, yes, for other things? Not really, Deucalion’s knights seemed fond of… well, they liked to call it disciplining.” The prince flinched and Stiles could clearly see the connections Derek was making, Stiles didn't bother to correct him.

“I don’t think the king would like to know that he was being compared to Deucalion.”

Stiles smirked “Well then, don’t tell him.” Derek couldn't help but snort and throw a half eaten apple that Stiles bit happily, it was sweet and perfect, nothing like the tasteless dried things he sometimes could buy in the market.

“Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around, Stiles.” muttered Derek, Stile smiled dumbly at that.

“Because I’m the best manservant you've ever had?”

He couldn't deny he deserved the shoe flying towards his head.

Nevertheless, he went to sleep a bit lighter, still mourning, but also hoping, and what a strange thing that was; Derek gave him hope.

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

_Deer Styles:_

 

 _Yor father let my write this bi meself, he ses Im a quik lerner but need more practise, he ses you used to be worse be you were lerning, and that yor writtin was ~~attro atro atruc~~_ bad.

_I mis you, things are allways the same around here, mum ses its been quiet witout you but I kno she is misin you to._

_Yor dad told my that if I lern to write well by next month he wil ~~agr aggre ag~~  let my lern to use a sord, he thinks Im talented and wont brek everythin around my, I never knew he tryed to teach you. _

_Write my a letter soon, wold you? its dredfuly boring arond here, the lest you culd do was send my storyes abot Camelot._

_Im stoping now, yor dad is lookin pained, maibe im not doin as good as I thoght writing theese._

_All my lov_

_Yor brother_

_Scott._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles (and all of Camelot) witnesses the execution in the pyre of a young girl, its not extremely graphic but its made clear what happened to her.


	5. Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you write almost a complete chapter and decide to save but click "No" instead of "Yes" and lose everything and then cry and cry and don't feel like doing much except mourn because you're an idiot who should already learn to save regularly? yeah, sorry for the delay. 
> 
> (I corrected the major mistakes I could find, I feel this chapter goes kind of wonky in the middle? still, it shall be better to read now, please enjoy.)

Derek was up and dressed when Stiles got to his rooms with breakfast a few days after their first actual talk as human beings, in no way he could say that the prince became a friend but he was friendlier and slightly likable making Stiles start to warm up slightly about the whole destiny deal he was (blessed? cursed?) entrusted with.

“You’re up early.” And even if he wasn't completely incapable of treating royalty with deference (although he was getting better with everyone except Derek) he would treat Derek just like anyone else if only to see his usual bored expression change to one of utter annoyance (it was hilarious). 

“I know the concept is difficult for you to grasp, but I’m your prince, you have to treat me with respect.” Said the prince for what was likely the tenth time that week while Stiles served the food trying very hard not to degenerate their interaction into childish insults so early in the morning, but of course Derek loved to be contrary “Well?”

“I’m terribly sorry, your royal highness, I was just wondering, your majesty, if there was a special reason for you to be awake and ready so early in the morning, _sire._ ”

Derek just raised an eyebrow and ate a few bites of bread and fruit without responding, and he always responded, with violence, verbal or physical, that could only mean that he had something terribly inconvenient in store for Stiles.

 “Get the horses saddled and pack some food, we’re going hunting.”

Of course.

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

He hated hunting.

It was one of those things that he’s aware are necessary but didn't want to have much to do with, Derek, being the prat that he was, understood quickly the exact reason of why Stiles offered to do practically any job that ensured him to stay in Camelot when the prince organized a party, so of course made sure to drag Stiles as much as possible even if he wasn't exactly the most useful servant out there, much less on a hunting trip where he would be forced to carry the poor carcasses of the victims of Derek’s carnage.

“Oh, don’t be such a girl, you benefit as much as us from the hunts.” The sole good thing about the trips was that Derek tended to relax a little, he wasn't nice to Stiles, but at least they didn't lose time discussing about the proper way to refer to royalty.

“Considering that you have knighted a couple of girls I don’t see how is that an insult coming from you, _sire”_

Lady Erica snorted at that just as she was passing them to scout the area, she was intimidating and seemed to like Stiles enough to terrify him purposely every other time. “Girls aren't knighted, my friend, women are.” she said without taking her eyes from the road ahead “Although I take a little offense, I've met girls capable to gut a pig in barely any time to feed their family while sweet Stiles here can barely stand the sight of blood.” Stiles laughed a little; he was slowly getting used to the teasing; he could finally decipher that the jabs and jokes were mostly some sort of knightly way of socialization, so if they made jokes on your expenses the saw you as a friend or at least, of course that wasn't the case all the time; Jackson was a bully through and through, for instance. But these knights, Derek's knights, were nice to Stiles most of the time. 

“Well, I hope the sight of blood doesn't make you faint, I have the feeling you’ll be carrying something big today.” The terrifying smirk on Derek’s just grew when Erica signaled tracks of stags very close to their path and Stiles couldn't help but wonder what did he do wrong in a past life to deserve the cruel fate of serving such an arse of a prince.

 

 

At night they got ambushed, and Stiles would weep in despair over how ridiculous had his life become if he wasn't already considerably scared to react in a way different than hide behind the trees and try not to attract attention to himself.

They were only five and he barely counted considering he couldn't use his magic without being discovered, the bandits at least doubled them in number and after recognizing Derek they looked even more eager about the whole attack business.

“Oh we could get some good gold with this one.” rasped the one Stiles guessed was the leader, his face full of scars and empty of teeth “Kill the others, we just need his royal highness for ransom.”

Then it got interesting.

It was undeniable that Derek’s knights where impressive; Erica was brutal in her attacks, as if she was having fun with her opponents, playing and confusing them until they were too furious to be smart about fighting her, she could take a couple of bandits at the same time without much problem.

Boyd, as everyone called him, was as calm as he was strong, he pushed and pushed until the bandits broke under his relentless attack, he looked as Stiles imagined a knight should look, serious, skilled and composed, his opponents approached him with deserved caution and fell easily until the pure strength that was the man.

The last knight, Isaac was quick and silent, falling on his enemies before they had the chance to try to attack, more than once he got behind his opponent without him noticing, he finished a bandit without the man be aware he was actually under attack.

Then, there was Derek.   

Derek was everything his knights were; he was the brutality, the strength, the intelligence and the ability but enhanced. Even Stiles who was ignorant in the matters of battle could see that the prince was a powerful opponent, too powerful by the looks of it.

The thing was, bandits didn't play by the rules, and even all the glory that was Derek and his knights couldn't take what was apparently a small battalion of sneaky men.

But Stiles could.

The thing about magic it was that it could on occasion feel intent, say, the intent of murdering/harming people that had some sort of relevance to the warlock who was in control of the magic, so when half a dozen men with crossbows started to get ready to ambush the prince? Stiles only had to mumble a quick spell to have their weapons set on fire by themselves, the fear of magic was so strong even in the enemies of the king that the poor bastards ran away screaming about cursed forest before they could even attempt at striking. Derek would never find out.

The fight was over quickly before that, without the support at distance the thieves found themselves at disadvantage under some of the best of Camelot, the leader quickly lost his bravado at the sight of his men defeated, and tried to run away. Except that mysteriously a branch fell on his head leaving his unconscious.

Derek approached the fainted man “Boyd, take him to Camelot, the dungeons will suit him well. I guess the hunting trip will be postponed.”

And wasn't that a relief.

It was also a relief when the prince ignored Stiles in favor of discussing scouting strategies with his knights, the magic took its toll on his body and he was exhausted, he felt like he could fall asleep on his horse.

“Is watching a battle actually a tiring exercise?” Derek’s sarcastic tone made Stiles sigh; of course he couldn't get away with anything around prince arse.

“Is being a prat actually a pastime of yours?” the prince snorted and kept riding alongside Stiles.

“Talking like that to me is treason.”

Stiles shrugged “you know, that stopped being intimidating around the tenth time you threatened to behead me… sire.”

And again, he couldn't say he didn't reserve the cuff on the head he got.

 

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

 

_Dear Scott,_

_Of course father was cringing; I was cringing when I read that, you have a lot of work to do if you want to be good at writing but I know you’ll master it in no time, I’m proud of you, even if your writing is atrocious._

_I miss you too; knowing about you makes life here easier. You know how we used to complain about Ealdor and how quiet it was? I find myself missing it, I love Camelot, I do, but it gets overwhelming from time to time._

_I’m really glad to know that you’re going to learn how to fight with a sword; maybe you’ll get to come to Camelot and ~~kick the prince's arse~~ and impress the royals around, who knows. _

_You want tales of Camelot? Mine aren't very exciting, the only remarkable thing that happened was that we got ambushed by bandits, (and yes, father, I’m fine, stop worrying over Scott’s shoulder), I could see the knights fight and they’re impressive, it’s not a really great story when I tell it, since I was left hiding, as you know, I am no physical fighter._

_Lady Erica, who happens to be one of the prince’s knights (and I won’t ask, she’s terrifying), gave me the dagger I send to you now, she insinuated that I should use it to defend myself, but as the prince put it, I would most likely end up killing myself while simply looking at it, I told her about you, and she didn't have any problem with me sending it, the knights are good people ~~It’s surprising, considering who trained them.~~_

_Tell me about your training, and father, since I’m sure you’re reading this, I hope to hear from you too, Deaton decided to also write so we’re sending both letters at the same time, so any news about my education will come from him, since that letter is actually addressing you, now stop reading this and go to the other letter._

_I expect a letter from you soon, Scott, take care of my father and send my love to your mother, I’m sure she misses how much I appreciated her cooking._

_With love,_

_Your brother,_

_Stiles._

\--------------///--------------------///--------------

_My friend,_

_It’s always good to hear from you, at this age having friends, even more, old friends is a luxury._

_Camelot has been good to your boy, it’s been difficult but he’s an outstanding young man, very talented, even if as difficult as you warned me he could be. He’s being careful, he has a good head on his shoulders, I must admit I can’t always see it, but he really is a bright man._

_Being the manservant to the prince has been interesting, I know the poor lad has been entrusted with a considerable amount of work and responsibilities but that too, I think, has been positive, even if he has a… particular relationship with the prince._

_I promise you, you don’t need to worry more than the normal amount a parent worries for his son, you have my word that I will keep him safe._

_Your friend,_

_D._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [_tumblr_](http://happystannis.tumblr.com) <3


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